Hot Tubs
by Miss Pennyfeather
Summary: A little Liz/Wesley fic about their strangely fascinating animosity and what could come out of it. Because we need more stories about them. Anyway, R&R! L/W


**Yes, you're not mistaken, this is a Liz/Wesley fic! That's right, I am going to say it; I don't ship Jack and Liz. Gasp! Well, my love for Tina Fey knows no bounds and I think Alec Baldwin does not suit her, as a TV partner. But Michael Sheen? Gods, yes! Of course, this has nothing to do with the fact that I have a major crush on the guy. But really now, he is my utter favourite from Liz's boyfriends. Yes, I like him more than Carol.**

**He's just so...unique and brilliant in his own way. And Liz wouldn't be settling if she stayed with him. She'd be dating an awesome guy. But I understand why she dumped him and I get why their relationship didn't work on the show. They made Wesley particularly irritating to Liz and they cut off their chemistry even when there was tons of it. But still, one silly little viewer can still dream about these two.**

**Because let's face it, their so-called animosity towards one another could be kind of...interesting:)**

**Here's to a shameless little fic dedicated to the 'what if' couple.**

**It takes place during Season 4 Episode 15. Some lines are taken from the episode. It's the scene where Liz and Wesley both go to see the movie by accident and end up chatting afterwards. This is my twisted version of that scene.**

**Oh, yeah, I don't own anything, though I wish Tina Fey was my secret lover.**

**Enjoy.

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Hot Tub Time Machine had definitely been a mistake.

No, not the movie, she pondered. The movie had been relatively enjoyable. Perhaps too many boobs in one plate for her. And some unnecessarily 'gross scenes', as she described them.

But all in all, the violent and ridiculous comedy had made her laugh.

The real mistake had been watching it with Wesley.

From the very first scene, his face scrunched up into an annoyed expression and he started whispering viciously into her ear how John Cussack had been much more endearing in Say Anything.

Since they were engulfed in darkness, in a quiet and almost empty room, there wasn't much she could do about his whispering or his proximity.

Then, he started questioning whether it was legal for John Cussack to pop the cherry (his choice of phrasing) of someone so much younger than him.

She wanted to choke on her own saliva. She couldn't take it anymore.

The brink came when he asked towards the end of the movie 'Why would they consider them partisans of the socialists over a can of energizer? Doesn't that stand more for capitalism?'

'Have you even paid attention to the movie?' she asked annoyed.

'Yes, from the beginning. Have you, _dearie_?'

'Don't call me that,' she replied, drawing away from him.

'Yes, you are right, why would you respond to a polite adjective?' he asked himself.

'The tone was condescending and further more – '

'Elizabeth, we are watching a movie you know,' he interrupted her, putting one finger over his lips and smiling.

'Argh!' she muttered and sipped from her Cola in anger.

When the movie was over all she wanted to do was run out of that Mall and crawl under a rock, far away from Wesley, some place he couldn't find her.

He was stubbornly fast on her tracks as she made her quick exit out of the theatre.

'You look like someone who wants to get away,' he said genially.

'Oh, do I, Wesley?' she asked sarcastically.

'I would say so. Perhaps you need a Hot Tub Time Machine yourself. Although, I tell you, no hot tub functions the way that one does. I would have assumed the makers of the movie would pay heed to that. Unfortunately, they have overlooked several scientifically accurate details.'

'I'm sorry, you have a problem with the _science_ of the Hot Tub Time Machine?'

'Not the time travel, it's the hot tub! You don't just turn one on and it's immediately hot. I should know, I've been in a hot tub two times.'

'Well, I don't question _everything_,' she replies snidely.

'Just the snacks I got for us,' he added in quiet frustration.

'Yeah, seltzer and Mike & Ikes!' she retorted, rolling her eyes.

'What did you want, popcorn?' he asked, irately.

'Yes!'

Popcorn, at the cinema?' he asked, incredulous. This woman was mad, simply mad. 'And by the way your food obsession is not as endearing as you think it is.'

This little quip was just too much. She felt her throat constricting. The one thing that she loved most in the world and he was going to criticise it?

'It's like being in a Cathy cartoon that just won't end,' he added, faking a tormented face.

Oh, no, he was not getting away with that!

'Oh, my God, I wanna smash your face!' she exclaimed exasperated. And given the right moment and the proper sharp object, she would have, in a second.

She was just too damn angry with him right now to think about the ramifications of those criminal actions.

He smiled slyly and made an amused face.

'What? Did I strike a nerve? I surely hope so, you have been oblivious of yourself for far too long.'

'Yeah, I would say the same about you. You have no idea how incredibly irritating you sound. Not to mention you just hurt people's feelings because you're British and you can,' she retorted.

'Hurt people's feelings? Me? I am the paradigm of selflessness! Have I not let you have my Cola as well? Did I not hold your bag when you sat down? Was I not quiet during the movie while you jabbered on senselessly?'

'Jabbered on...you were the one doing that!'

'Yes, blame it on the charming young Brit who's done nothing wrong but be a complete gentleman – '

'Okay, you're not charming or young, so you'd better stop right there before I start with _gentleman_,' she warned him, pointing her finger at him.

'If you are deflecting the fact that you are in your forties and past your prime on me, then you are wasting your time because I am as ageless and cold as a Chinese, only not born in the Republic because I am a man of Monarchy!'

'Gah, the sooner I see the back of you the better! I can't even begin to understand why I wrote you down as Future Husband!'

'Neither do I, Future Wife, or future pain in the _bottom_,' he drawled.

'Don't call it that,' she retorted.

'Well I'm sorry if I cannot be as prosaic and vulgar as _you_ are.'

They had reached the bathrooms by now. Liz strutted in tiredly, holding her purse under her armpit, hoping to get away from him for a couple of minutes. Wesley followed annoyed.

'What are you doing?' she asked, her shoulders sagging.

'I am going to wet some petunias, what do you think?'

'Wesley, it's the ladies' bathroom, at least have _some_ respect,' she said, shoving him out.

'I'm afraid Elizabeth, it's the men's,' he replied crisply, pointing at the sign above the door.

Liz sighed internally. This happened to her much too often.

_Oh, hell. _She was too proud to stop now.

'Oh, yeah? So what? I see stalls. I can go and take a wiz in here. It's not strictly forbidden. See if you can stop me.'

'Elizabeth Kaitlin Lemon, do not attempt to shame this sanctuary of relief – '

'That's not my middle name!'

'I know, but it sounded appropriate in the current situation!' he yelled above her voice. 'Now please, kindly leave –'

'And who calls it sanctuary of relief anyway? It's just an oversized _pee room_ and frankly I am sick of men getting cleaner bathrooms in malls. So I'm going to use the stalls!'

'Elizabeth, you wouldn't dare!'

She whipped around and started walking towards one of the stalls, but he grabbed her arm and turned her around.

'You have lost your sense, woman!'

'No, I am going to do something liberating as a woman, for all women!'

'I would slap you senselessly if I had a good pair of leopard leather gloves!' he shrieked.

'And I would jump up and down on those gloves!' Liz retorted, her anger rising in her throat.

Wesley made a shocked face.

'You would do that to a pair of fine leather gloves?' he asked, his voice cracking.

'That and a lot more!'

She had no idea who had pulled who or who had lowered their heads first but she was pretty sure it had been Wesley.

He smashed his lips onto hers and started kissing her wildly.

Of all the outcomes of this evening, and she had envisioned many, being kissed by Wesley in the men's room was definitely not one of them.

In fact, kissing Wesley had always been number three in her 'never going to happen, ever, ever,' list, right after playing beach volley and giving her grandfather an erotic massage.

How had it happened then?

One minute they were arguing like children and the next...

But she didn't have time to overanalyse things because he was still crushing her lips and she opened her mouth in annoyance and caught his lip between her teeth. He let out a strange noise that made her want to shout, but instead he gained more access to her mouth. His tongue quickly darted into unknown places and she had to remember that she was a geek with glasses to control herself.

The kiss was strangely pleasant and completely inappropriate at the same time.

It felt like she was kissing an uncle – an uncle who could kiss pretty damn well for an English _tosser_, to use his slang.

He inhaled sharply as her hands reached his shirt collar. She was pulling him towards her. His hands travelled from her tangled hair to her back. And he pushed her up against one of the stall doors.

The door gave in and they almost fell inside. Luckily, Liz found time to grab him in the process and she regained balance.

But this incident made them stop briefly.

They were both panting heavily. They looked into each other's eyes in shock and bewilderment.

'You still had some Mike & Ike left in your teeth. Your oral hygiene is lacking,' he informed her, wiping his forehead.

'Yeah, well, you were the jerk who got me jelly beans in the first place.'

'Oh and you imagine the kiss being more pleasant with popcorn stuck in your teeth?'

'Can we stop arguing about food?'

'Incredible! You don't want to talk about food for once!'

And then she smashed her lips against his, because it would have been impolite of her to let him have the satisfaction of kissing her.

He grabbed her waist quickly and moved his hands over the small of her back.

Her hands found their way to his shoulders. She was pushed up against the wall again.

His kisses had moved from her lips to her chin and now he was doing some interesting things to her neck. It tickled. She started laughing, but he silenced her by returning to her lips.

When she tugged away at his coat shyly, he stopped all of a sudden and looked into her eyes with all the sincerity he could muster.

'I have never been able to do this in a public place, much less a sanctuary of relief.'

'Oh, ewww, Wesley! Of course we can't have sex in here! It's crammed and uncomfortable! Not to mention I might strain my neck. And more importantly, there are germs and poop residue just about everywhere. Only a dumbass would...'

'Have intercourse here, yes!' he agreed, nodding his head and smiling. 'I'm glad we both see eye to eye on this matter. I would hate for something as pleasant as that to happen in a Godforsaken loo.'

'Well, nothing like that will ever happen here or anywhere!' she replied quickly.

'You seem to be giving the wrong signals then!'

'Maybe you're the one interpreting them wrongly!' she retorted.

'Don't worry, I am not so keen to get between those rubicund things you call thighs. I am afraid of what you might be hiding down there, a midget perhaps...'

'Oh, son of a...'

Her mouth was covered by his again and the word died on her lips. And any other words for that matter.

The make out session continued. It was incredibly absurd and out of proportions.

She felt she was on one of those teen drama shows where the two leads have been so sexually tense around each other that in the season finale they just jump at each other like wild rabbits.

Only this was _not_ a season's finale and they were not sexually attracted to one another. Not really. No.

This was Wesley and she was Liz and the universe had brought them together because they both liked hard cheese.

There was nothing more to this equation.

She remembered having told Kenneth that they were not meant to be and she stood by her words. They would never work out.

Well, a relationship between them would be disastrous.

But a heated make out in a bad-smelling bathroom? Yes, that could work.

It was what Liz called hate sex. Only it was _hate kissing_?

Still, there was one more upsetting issue that kept preventing her from enjoying the moment at its fullest. The one question that kept buzzing around her brain, not letting her have her one slutty moment.

She pulled away briefly and touched his face with her hands.

'Wait, when have you _ever_ been in a hot tub?'


End file.
